You know, recently I have been struggling a lot with my practice, wondering: Am I doing something, or NOT doing something? Is there something wrong with effort? Does it mean rejecting things the way they are? Do I strive, or do I peer into what is here? What if I try to still my mind? Is that ok, or does enlightenment require accepting the unstillness and leaving it messy as it is?
Someone tonight at the Young Dharma group that meets in SF, summed up our evening's discussion by referencing a story of a monk throwing aside his monks robes in frustrations being counseled that practice was like tuning a guitar, too slack and it makes no sound, too tight and the strings break.
Andre Segovia, to the day he died, had to tune his guitar. Playing it causes it to need tuning, as does not playing it. Why shouldn't then my practice be constantly adjusting? Sitting makes our practice need adjustment. Not sitting makes our practice need adjustment. Its a measured tautness, maybe, and always changing.
“A Course on Koans” is the delusion-riddled work of Chris Kufu (“Wind in the Void”) Wilson, who began practicing Zen in 1967. He regards Taizan Maezumi, Robert Aitken, and David Weinstein as his root teachers. Each of them pecked at his shell until he “completed” the never-ending koan curriculum of the Harada-Yasutani lineage.
Get posts as they are published:
What We Read